2 Worlds Collide
by FaerieRing
Summary: After Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy come back to England the first time, they are devastated, but try to cope as they wait for Aslan to bring the back to Narnia. But Narnia has other ideas. (I own nothing)
1. England Sucks

"I hate it here!" Edmund growled at the fair haired teen before him, as he slumped against an old gnarled oak tree, head tilted back towards the overcast English sky, the crisp autumn breeze blowing strands of sweat slicked black hair out of perceptive, brown eyes, "Everyone here keeps treating us like children, and therefore for some reason, incapable of rational thought! It's maddening!"

Peter sighed softly as he shifted on the soft grass of the clearing, settling down to wait out his enraged younger brother's slow, yet fearsome, temper. Since their return to school, Edmund had taken to exploding every so often, once away from their classmates; ranting about how England and life in general was grossly unfair.

The Pevensies had fallen back into England five months ago; tumbling out of the old wardrobe in the professor's spare room in a tangled pile of young, coltish limbs and clothes they had not worn since before the Battle of Beruna, many years ago. All four had had a hard time adjusting to being treated like children again, especially the youngest two who had lived longer in Narnia than England. Peter had long since forgotten how restricting it was in England, and now that they had been adults and royalty, being seen as children and summarily dismissed was infuriating.

The siblings had been at their respective boarding schools for nearly three months now, bored out of their minds, isolated and forced to attend classes they had surpassed years ago with classmates who were more than a decade their juniors mentally. Only his brother kept Peter from going around the bend, as Edmund had been moved to Peter's year due to his 'academic prowess' during the first weeks of term. Though they were trying not to stand out, the boys had agreed that if they had to go back to school, they would go through it together; so Edmund let his act slip enough for the Headmaster to move him up a few years. Due to their Narnian tutelage and 'newfound' maturity, the brothers were outcasts among their peers. Their only escape from the monotony were their weekly visits with their sisters and their sparring practice.

The boys had taken to hiding away in a thick grove of trees near the edge of school property after classes ended and sparring with wooden staves they had fashioned from tree limbs and hid in an old, hollow willow tree. Their disappearances had escaped notice for the time being, though they had to occasionally postpone practice due to suspicious teachers.

They knew there would be many an uncomfortable question if anyone caught sight of their many bruises and scars, but the sparring kept the boys in shape and let them blow off steam, so they continued when they could.

At the moment, they were taking a break from their sparring to discuss the politics and ramifications of the Red Dwarf Rebellion of 335 NK (Narnian Kranos), a time long before their own rein. It was then that Edmund broke down; reminiscing on Narnia usually had such an effect on him. He yelled himself hoarse, and Peter did not try to stop him. He knew Edmund would be calmer and easier to reason with once he had gotten it all out.

Edmund's complaints were neither new, nor invalid. The children chafed at the restrictions placed upon them by British society. They all wished to return to their beloved Narnia and their proper ages; to be taken seriously and able to live freely again. Above all though, the siblings worried for Narnia's future. Though Narnia had been at peace when they left, the ruthless Triscots of vast, southern Calormene had long coveted Narnia's green pastures and lush forests, and there was always the threat of pirate raids along the coast or giants coming down from the north.

Edmund stilled abruptly, his rant dropping off midsentence as though he could hear Peter's thoughts. Deflating, he sat heavily on a gnarled tree root, snatching his water bottle off the ground and taking a long swig. As the silence stretched on, he glanced at Peter through his lashes and muttered dejectedly, "I hope Narnia is doing alright without us", his pain and despair bleeding through his words, despite the walls he strove to hide his true self behind. He had never been good at hiding things from Peter.

Peter clapped him on the shoulder, offering his silent reassurance and faith in their people, knowing words would do little to alleviate Edmund's mood. The siblings had left their hearts in Narnia, while their bodies and minds were trapped in England, worlds away.


	2. Narnia Returns

"Pevensies! Pay attention!" barked Mr. Randolph, Hedson House's short and stout English teacher. The man had a fuse as short as his height, and had taken a near instantaneous dislike to the Pevensie brothers since they first entered his domain. He especially hated Edmund and was convinced the younger boy had somehow cheated his way into his advanced class. It did not help that despite his best efforts to send the pair from his class in disgrace, they were his top students.

"Yes sir." The brothers barked in unison as they shared a quick glance, so used to reading each other that they did not need words to communicate.

'I am becoming very annoyed with him.' Edmunds eyes said.

'As am I, brother mine, as am I.' his brother's answered drily.

Their exchange took only seconds before both boys turned to face the front once more. As Mr. Randolph continued his lecture, Peter tried his hardest to pay attention to the lesson but found he could only concentrate on Mr. Randolph's monotone voice droning on about proper diction for a few short moments before his mind drifted once more.

As his attention wavered, thoughts of Narnia dominated Peter's mind as they often did: memories of gruelling training sessions with Edmund and Oreius, feasting in the great hall with their courtiers, friends, and visiting dignitaries. Where were they now? Peter supposed their friends must have been frantic with worry when the four of them vanished.

The boys had visited their sisters the day before, and it was painfully obvious to Peter how hard his siblings were taking the separation from each other and their country. Though Lucy had acted a cheerful as usual, but it was just that, an act. The youngest Pevensie had spent more than half her life in Narnia as its beloved Valiant Queen, making the transition even harder as she had only faint memories of their life before the Narnia. Susan on the other hand had turned her inner turmoil over being trapped in England into an impressive drive for her studies.

Both Susan and Edmund tended to bottle up their emotions, but while Susan was able to manage hers, Edmund tended to explode when the memories and feeling of helplessness became too much for him. Peter though, was more like his youngest sister; trying his hardest to put on a brave face and be strong for his family as they waited for Aslan to call them back to Narnia.

The school bell suddenly rang; the shrill sound startling both boys out of their thoughts as their hands reflexively flew to belts where swords used to rest. The bell sounded like the sharp cry of the griffins who fought in the Narnian Army. They had been a major asset to the army due to their ability to give both aerial and ground support to their troops as well as doing surveillance.

Eager to leave the daily boredom behind, Peter hurried to pack up his books, moving quickly and more fluidly than he had intended. None of them could afford to appear as regal or mature as they were; it would be too suspicious and people were already looking too closely at them due to their 'radical' changes over the summer.

The boys walked down the crowded hallways side by side, making their way to the mess hall, each lost in their own thoughts. They sat with their classmates and their meagre helping of cafeteria food. There was another reason to want to be in Narnia instead of England right now: no rationing. Many of their classmates were surrounding the few students who received the daily paper. They were speaking excitedly with exaggerated hand gestures. Curious, Edmund asked one of the boys in their class, Andrew, what the excitement was all about.

"See for yourself!" he crowed and handed them his paper.

The headline read, "**AN UNKNOWN KINGDOM COMES TO US". **Underneath the bold lines sat a slightly grainy black and white photograph of General Oreius, Narnia's lead general, the quartet's mentor and most trusted advisor. The centaur was standing in the middle of a large group of armoured Narnians in Green Park. There was some sort of swirling portal behind Oreius, giving the populous a glimpse of the Fords of Beruna.

The brothers looked at each other in shock, hope shining in their eyes. They had a way home; they just needed to get to London first.

Near the end of dinner, Headmaster Smith stood from his place at the head table. "I have been asked by many today," he began as the students' chatter dropped off, "if the excursion to Green Park with the lovely young ladies of Saint Finbar School for Young Ladies will continue as planned. I am happy to say it will. If you are lucky, you may even get to see some of these fabled Narnians."

That was tomorrow! In his excitement, Peter had forgotten that they were going on a trip with their sisters' school. Lucy had been ecstatic at the prospect of spending a peaceful day out with her siblings, away from the watchful and restricting eyes of their classmates and teachers. Idly, Peter wondered how his sisters reacted when they realised they might be going home as well.


	3. One Stop Away

The next morning came as quickly as molasses runs, mostly because neither Edmund nor Peter got more than an hour of sleep. The brothers shared a dormitory with four other boys in their year, and not one stopped whispering about the impending trip until well after midnight. It was a restless night before what was sure to be a hectic day.

Once Peter and Edmund shook off the last vestiges of sleep and finished preparing for the undoubtedly long day ahead of them, they headed down to the busy dining hall in silence. The hall was even louder than usual when they entered and as they sat down, they began to make out conversations from the general babble. Everyone was chattering on about Narnia, with the exception of a small group of upperclassmen who were whispering about the Saint Finbar girls in a rather risqué way. Agreeing to have a "talk" later with the boys about harassing their eldest sister, the brothers tuned out the relentless babble and ate their bland breakfast quietly. Shortly thereafter, the headmaster stood from his seat to announce the beginning of the trek to the busses.

About half of the school was going on the field trip, and they were to meet the girls at the Tube station as it was too expensive to bus everyone all the way to London. The bus ride took nearly an hour, though it felt like an eternity to the rambunctious boys. Their classmates were vibrating with excitement and though the Pevensie boys could empathise with the teens, ingrained habit from years of court functions let nothing show through their carefully crafted, impassive masks.

When they arrived at the station, the boys rushed off the bus as quickly as possible. There was a crowd of uniformly dressed girls waiting on the platform, and they called out when they saw them, many of the children greeting each other fondly. Saint Finbar and Hedson House were sibling schools and since they were both relatively small, they often went on outings together.

Peter was lost in his thoughts when he was suddenly tackled from the side, small arms wrapping around his waist like bands of steel. He looked down sharply and laughed as his fiery little sister clung to him, happy to see the fire in her eyes rekindled at the prospect of going home, "You glad to see me or something Lu?"

"Peter!" she cried, beaming, before turning to Edmund who was hugging Susan. "Edmund!" She cried letting go of Peter to run into his embrace, and Susan went to Peter, trading siblings. A moment later, both sisters drew back and the siblings fell in line with each other. Edmund started the conversation off, remarking dryly, "I take it you've seen the papers?"

Lucy solemnly nodded, along with Susan. They began speaking as they followed the crowd of students onto the train. "I wonder if we will know any of them." Lucy mused, fond memories clouding her thoughts

"I'm sure we will Lucy." comforted Susan, recognizing the faraway look in her little sister's eyes. She herself had been struggling all morning not to completely fall into old memories and forget the moment.

"I wonder what has gone on in Narnia since we left. There must have been a great upheaval when we all disappeared so suddenly." This was Edmund, and he too had the distant look often seen on his younger sister's face.

"They were not completely dependent on our presence, you know. We have a remarkably talented and dedicated staff; I am sure they had it all well in hand in no time." Susan answered smartly, with only slightly forced optimism.

The train was moving now, beginning what would be a half hour train ride to Green Park. Though chattering and watchful students and teachers surrounded them, nothing could be heard from their conversation but hushed whispers. The siblings knew to speak so only they could hear; a skill that often came in handy during court and apparently, train rides.

Their conversation continued on a similar vein, though they eventually switched to Old Narnian when one too many a classmate leaned in a little too close for comfort. People liked to gossip about the Pevensie siblings, who until recently had been your average family, and then returned from the summer holidays much changed. There were rumours of the siblings being abducted by aliens, swapped with Nazi clones, and many more: each theory more outlandish than the last. As such, it was unsurprising that all four stuck together like glue, one not long being seen without the others; despite attending different schools. Their time in Narnia had made the four children closer than they could ever have imagined, and having to depend on each other in battle had instilled in them a trust like no other. On all the interschool trips, the family was seen as they were now: huddled together and intently discussing matters known to none but themselves.

The teachers ignored the odd way the Pevensies acted for the most part, chalking it up to a summer spent isolated in the countryside and with little news of their father who was waging war against the Nazis, along with most of their menfolk. When the teacher in their car stood and announced they were almost to Green Park, he failed to notice the knowing and excited glances passed among the siblings, too busy trying to restore order to the rest of his hyperactive charges.

And so a most unusual family stepped off the Tube, one-step closer to their lost land.


	4. Recognition

The outing of some one hundred and fifty students had twenty chaperones, yet even in their numbers, the adults were having trouble keeping their unruly charges together. Steadfastly ignoring their increasingly frantic minders, the children ran rampant; trying to break through the line of frazzled teachers. The Pevensies however, had already quietly slipped away. All four were skilled in espionage, their talents honed through a need to navigate both combat situations and court functions. As soon as the teachers turned their backs on the four, they were gone.

It was easy for the Pevensies to find the eye of the storm. Green Park was teeming with people, both tourists and reporters, everyone moving towards one central point in a massive crowd. It seemed as though all of England had converged on the park to see evidence of the new land. The siblings held tightly to each other's hands as they expertly weaved through the mass of people, not wanting to lose each other in such a large crowd. It grew louder the farther in they moved and what looked like a large tear in the sky came into view. Catching sight of the swirling portal, Peter stilled abruptly, making Lucy bump into him, and giving the raven-haired pair pause.

As he turned around to face his siblings, Edmund gave him a puzzled look, "What is it Pete? Something wrong?"

Peter hesitated a moment before answering, "We must remember," he began softly, "that depending on whom has come through the portal, the Narnians may not recognise nor believe us. Unless it is someone who has known us since the beginning of our reign, they may dismiss us without a second glance." His siblings nodded, almost unconsciously accepting his authority as the eldest, and prepared themselves for any outcome.

A shout suddenly rang through the crowd. "Make way for the Prime Minister! Make way!"

The crowd began to part as a group of official looking, suited men made their way through the park, towards the portal. The Pevensies began to pick up their pace, trying to make it through the crowd in time to see the confrontation. They pushed through the throng of adults, using their smaller statures to make it to the forefront of the mass with little trouble. From the front of the crowd, they could see and hear everything.

Among the group was the Prime Minister, who seemed to be in shock, as he stared, wide eyed, at the large centaur in front of him that the Royals recognized as Oreius, their mentor and a general in the Narnian Army, before coming back to his senses. After a few minutes of hushed conversation, the Prime Minister turned to address the masses, "My dear people of England, for a long time we have wondered if we were alone in the world. In a time of great hardship for our people, we have found a land of peace and simplicity, and though we do not yet see quite eye to eye; we shall endeavour to learn from them. Now, General Oreius would like to say a few words."

He stepped aside to let the centaur take the fore. In his clear, calm baritone, the master swordsman addressed the assembled crowd, "People of England, allow me to introduce myself. I am General Oreius, Steward of the fair lands of Narnia; a land very different from your own. I am told that in this land, creatures such as myself, do not exist. I am a centaur, and Narnia is full of my kind and many others not known to your peoples. I will take time now to answer what questions you may have."

This heralded a veritable explosion of chatter, as the reporters proceeded to holler their questions at Oreius, each trying to be heard over the others. The siblings winced at the sheer volume of it, as Oreius answered the first question he could make out: "How did you get here?" The general replied, "We are not certain the portal works. When it appeared in Narnia, Aslan came to us and said the portal would take us to the land of our missing monarchs, who vanished nearly a year ago. If it is Aslan's will, we ho-" He cut off suddenly, as his calm sweeping gaze came to a stop, focused on the Pevensies.

"King Peter?"


	5. Political Entanglement

**I know the Prime Minister at the time was Winston Churchill but I couldn't figure out how to write him so he isn't the Prime Minister for this fic.**

Breaking out of his shock, Oreius surged forward, making the crowd around him scatter, everyone clamouring to avoid the large centaur. Only the Pevensies held their ground, unfazed by the supposedly mythological creature bearing down on them. Oreius stopped mere feet from the quartet, and ran a critical, guardedly hopeful eye down the line the siblings had unconsciously formed out of years of habit. With Edmund on one end and Lucy on the other; they stood in the same order the four monarchs sat enthroned in Cair Paravel's great hall. They met Oreius' searching gaze one by one, each straightening from their childish slouches to the tall and regal bearing of royalty; a stance which came to the four as easily in their ill-fitting school uniforms as it did in court finery. Silently observing the children for a long, tense moment, Oreius slowly knelt before them; a sign of the uttermost respect and reverence from a centaur, as it is hard for them to stand back up with decorum. Oreius knew who they were.

Peter stepped forward, and with the barest hint of uncertainty said, "You may stand, old friend." The Narnian rose, once again towering over his rulers. "Hail; High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy of Narnia!" he called out with great ceremony, voice rough with emotion and nodding to each child in turn, "I must admit my confusion your majesties."

Peter stepped in before he could go any farther. "It has to do with the movement of time between Narnia and this world and the influence of magic. When we disappeared in Narnia, we were returned to where we entered Narnia in England, with no time having passed, and so we were returned to our child bodies once more. Rest assured, we truly are the monarchs you know us as." It was not the full story, but that was for another time. Peter did not want to have to tell the story more times than he had to and the middle of Green Park was not the ideal place for a long chat.

He was so absorbed in talking to a fellow Narnian for the first time in months, that Peter failed to notice the reporters closing in on them, avidly taking a transcript of their conversation. It was not until the prime minister rudely interrupted him that Peter was brought back to the present.

"Just who are you, boy?" The prime minister asked the youth who was speaking so calmly and freely with the ruler of an otherworldly nation.

Without a hint of hesitation, Peter stepped forward; head held high and eyes steady as he recited the first thing he had learned as High King; his title and that of his family:

"I am High King Peter the Magnificent of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion. These are my beloved siblings and fellow consorts: Queen Susan the Gentle, King Edmund the Just, Duke of Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, and Queen Lucy the Valiant."

Each of the Pevensies bowed or curtsied in turn as Peter introduced them; deep enough to show respect, but shallow enough to assert their authority.

The functional ruler of all of Great Britain sputtered angrily, "That is preposterous! Do not lie to me boy. You are what, fourteen?"

"I may look a teen, but do not mistake mine or my siblings' youthful appearances for naivety. We are Narnia's rulers… and you are?" Peter was peeved; it was evident to all who knew him well, as the last question was merely a dig at the older man's posturing and ego. Peter knew who the Prime Minister was, however, one of the entertainments for the Pevensie siblings during the long days of Narnian court was learning how to insult petty nobles in the most respectful way possible. One of Peter's favourite encounters was with one of Susan's numerous suitors, Prince Rabadash of Calormene. Peter and Edmund had enjoyed running verbal circles around Rabadash in an effort to dissuade him from their much desired sister. Unfortunately, even their skill was too little to get through the pig-headed prince's head. All four had become remarkably skilled by the end of their rule, and it was times like this their exercises in polite insults came in handy.

The Prime Minister was once again sputtering in his outrage. These children had brazenly walked up and proclaimed themselves the rulers of an entire nation primed to help them in their current war. He took a menacing step toward the four, ready to kick them of the park, or London if he could. He was stopped in his tracks by the thickly muscled arm of general Oreius, who gazed solemnly down at the smaller man.

"They are our rulers. They may look like children but I have watched them age before and lead our nation expertly, even as they are now. Do not let their appearance fool you, all four fought valiantly in the Battle of Beruna before their coronation. They are not to be trifled with."

Digesting the centaur's words, the Prime Minister took a moment to properly look at the 'children' in front of him and was surprised with what he saw:

The eldest of the Pevensies, Peter, was fair of hair and face, with calculating, sky blue eyes that were fixed on the Prime Minister with the same strength and determination he heard from the youth when he began introductions. He stood loosely, one foot slightly in front of the other; ready to jump into action at a moment's notice and he had shifted his youngest sister behind him when he noticed the Prime Minister and his entourage approaching. He was their protector.

The elder girl, on the other hand, seemed soft and dainty. Susan had silken black hair that flowed in a wave of pure night down her back, a striking contrast against her pale skin. At first glance, she came off rather unassuming and friendly, but as he looked into her deep blue eyes, a few shades darker than her eldest brother's, he saw the same fire there and knew, despite the girl's appearance, that she was both a gracious Lady and a vicious warrior when necessary.

The youngest boy, Edmund, was easier for the Prime Minister to read, yet harder at the same time. Raven haired and pale skinned like his elder sister, with deep brown eyes and a shrewd presence, he oddly reminded the Prime Minister of his political opposition. Here was a boy ready to twist any situation to his and his family's advantage. Though he was skilled at hiding his keen intellect and razor sharp wit behind an indifferent façade, but the Prime Minister could still see the spark in his eyes that told him that this boy was a master politician and wordsmith. His brother may be the sword, but Edmund was the pen, and they could do equal damage.

Lastly, dwarfed and partially hidden by her brothers, was little Lucy. The youngest Pevensie had burnished auburn curls, freckled, sun kissed skin, and possessed the same noble bearing as her siblings; but there was something… more to her, which set her apart. Her endless, sky blue eyes shined with hidden light and were at odds with her body. Those eyes were far too old and wise to belong to the little slip of a girl peering out at him from behind her brother's legs. But despite her diminutive stature, the Prime Minister felt as though he stood before a proud lioness, loving and gentle, yet ready and able to tear your throat out at the slightest hint of danger.

Turning back to Oreius, the Prime Minister tried to take back control of the situation, "We will be making our way to Buckingham Palace." He said, "My lord, King George VI of Great Britain and Ireland, wishes for an audience with you. You four may come if it is _absolutely_ necessary." He began walking out of the park at a brisk pace as the crowd parted around him, and sharing a fondly exasperated glance, the Pevensies began to follow him with Oreius and his retinue bringing up the rear. As they neared the edge of the park however, a shout rang out.

"OY, Pevensies! Where do you think you're going?" It was Mr. Randolph, and he was furious.


	6. Reepicheep

I know Reepicheep doesn't show up until Prince Caspian, but in this AU Price Caspian doesn't happen and I couldn't leave out one of my favourite characters, so Reep is Lucy's bodyguard and friend.

Turning around, the Pevensies came face to face with the boys' irate teacher. He was dishevelled from pushing his way through the crowd of reporters surrounding the Narnians and he looked just a few shades shy of bonkers.

"Where on this good earth have you lot been?!" he ground out as he stalked towards the Pevensie siblings, paying no mind to the Narnians and Ministry officials around them, "I have been looking for you two for over a half hour and Ms. Ellington is near out of her mind with worry for you ladies! Get back to the group, now." When none of the Pevensies moved, Mr. Randolph grabbed Lucy forearm and pulled sharply, nearly wrenching her arm out of its socket, "Now come quietly, and I may not have you all caned within an inch of your lives when we return to school."

Everyone froze, stunned at the outrageous actions of the teacher until Lucy cried out from the now crushing grip on her arm, making her siblings and the Narnians surge forward to help the little girl who, though a formidable warrior, could do little in such a small and weak body.

Before anyone got within a foot of the man, he yelped and let go of Lucy to clutch at his now bleeding legs. Lucy scrambled back over to her siblings as soon as his grip slackened and as Peter quickly checked her over, a small voice called out, "Fairest Lady, what wouldst thou have me do with this vile fiend, who dared lay a hand upon your most noble personage?"

Looking around in confusion, the Pevensies noticed a large, brown mouse standing atop of Mr. Randolph's chest, a feathered gold loop around one ear and his wickedly sharp needle of a sword pressed against the balding man's carotid artery. "Reepicheep!" Lucy exclaimed, "Do let him up and come give me a proper greeting, dearest friend!"

"As you wish, milady." Reepicheep chirped, hopping off their bleeding teacher and scurrying over to his beloved rulers and friends. "It is a pleasure to see you again in good health, your majesties." He said reverently as he bowed low, doffing his ear-loop and sheathing his sword with a flourish. Rising, he launched himself into Lucy's outstretched arms and manoeuvred himself until he was perched securely on her shoulder. "It is wonderful to see you my friend," he whispered in her ear, "it has been far too quiet without you."

Most only saw Reepicheep as Queen Lucy's miniature bodyguard, but in truth, he was her closest friend and most loyal confidante. The two had been inseparable since Peter assigned the mouse as Lucy's personal guard in the second year of their rein, after a near fatale assassination attempt by Calormene mercenaries. Unfortunately, Reepicheep could not stand to see Lucy upset and had quite a mischievous streak himself, making it easier for Lucy to slip out of the castle to frolic with the fauns and dryads at all hours, not harder, as Peter had intended.

"What Is Going On?" Mr. Randolph yelled, startling everyone back to the present. The boy's teacher was currently being strong-armed by two burly fauns as the rest of the students on the field trip fanned out behind them, gawking at the spectacle their teacher was making.

Peter moved forward with aggression at the rude interruption, but Susan calmly placed a gentle yet firm hand on his arm and moved in front of her brother. Although Peter held authority over his siblings, Susan was far better at soothing ruffled feathers. Mentally stealing herself, Susan stepped up to Mr. Randolph and started to do what she did best, talk *manipulate*.


	7. Mother Knows Best?

Quite a spectacle there was that day in Green Park. England's carefully prepared welcome for the Narnians had been derailed with the appearance of four children, who, if the rumours were to be believed, were the rulers of this otherworldly country. It seemed almost impossible to those who had witnessed the event for themselves to believe, let alone those who heard of the event second hand from radio broadcasts, the newspaper and gossiping neighbours.

Mrs. Pevensie was, unfortunately, one of the many filled in on the spectacle through the radio. Though the news station only knew the official titles of the foreign royalty, it would take a halfwit not to match Helen's children with the mysterious royals at the park, and one would never say Helen Pevensie was dull by any stretch of the imagination. Helen then spent the rest of the day fretting, constantly cleaning and shooting furtive glances at the stubbornly silent telephone every few minutes, because, really, the Narnian royals could not be her children. Her children had never been out of the country before, let alone gone to some unknown land of mythical proportions. She would know if they had, would she not?

Though, as she thought about it over a hot cup of Earl Grey when she took a break from dusting, they had been very quiet and independent of her, yet strangely co-dependent of each other since they returned from the country. They had been so different before they left.

Peter had been struggling to cope with being the man of the house, while Susan decided that 'growing up' and ordering her siblings around was the best way to be helpful and cope with the stress of the war. Edmund had resented their father for abandoning them to join the army and became spiteful and cruel to everyone as a result, and little Lucy had been clingy and terribly shy.

Thinking of her wayward children, it was much harder than she liked to match them to the ones she had sent away to the country, nearly a year ago. Helen had not noticed at first; she too excited to have her children home to pay mind to their changed behaviour. But as the weeks passed, there were too many changes for Helen to ignore.

Her formerly rather volatile children got along spectacularly now, backing up and helping one another without being asked. The four worked together like the well-oiled gears of a clock, anticipating each other's needs and compensating almost unconsciously, instead of knocking heads like they used to. Aside from mealtimes, the four spent their days drifting about the house with slightly sad, wistful smiles as they spoke quietly among themselves in an unknown, lyrical tongue; stopping whenever they noticed their mother near.

There was pain lurking behind their eyes that had not been there before, yet they seemed surer of themselves, like they knew their place in the world. All four had an air of confidence about them, even little Lucy.

Peter had grown whilst in the country: his shoulders broadened slightly and his golden hair falling neatly to his chin in gentle waves. The growth was not just physical though, for where Peter had once floundered, he now flourished; his siblings looking to him first for praise and approval when before they looked to her. When Helen had asked Peter to look after his siblings, she had not meant for him to take her place, and though she could tell he had tried to step back for her, his word was now law among her children; hers was to be heeded out of politeness.

Susan was different too, carrying a truly motherly presence to temper her often cuttingly sharp mind and tongue. Where before her grown-up demeanour had been a crumbling façade she hid behind, now true maturity took its place. Gracious and polite, Susan navigated social functions with tact and finesse and made Helen at times feel more a nuisance in the kitchen than its mistress.

Edmund was perhaps the easiest to see changes in. Before, Edmund would snap at anyone who spoke to him, but now he was quieter, more thoughtful, and when he did speak, his words held maturity and a weight among his siblings they had not before. He had taken to reading the old law and history tomes from his father's study when the family would gather in the living room for family time after dinner if he wasn't challenging one of his siblings to a chess match; a game of deep thought and strategy that Edmund had had no patience for before.

Lucy had changed too, but it was smaller, more subtle things than her siblings. She still smiled and laughed with childish abandon, but she did not truly act like a child anymore; at least, not like children as Helen knew them. Her dolls and toys sat gathering dust on a shelf in the girls' room, and while her drawings remained a constant, they were no longer childish doddles, but beautiful, detailed vistas and portraits, made with sure strokes that spoke of an experienced hand. She was more independent and confidant as well; and when it came to illnesses and injuries, she had a startling amount of knowledge and authority over her siblings for one so young.

Just two weeks before school started, Edmund had fallen out of a tall tree at the park and scrapped his right knee open harshly on the pavement below. By the time their mother had processed what happened, Lucy had already given her youngest brother a quick once over before telling the elder two to help her get him up and home. Snapping out of her shock, Helen ran home after her children to find them in the kitchen; the first-aid kit open on the table and Edmund's injured leg propped up in Susan's lap. Lucy knelt between the pair, tending to the deep, gravel embedded gash with steady hands and an unwavering gaze, paying no mind to the blood staining her hands and skirt, while Peter held his brother in place with gentle, yet firm hands so he would not make Lucy's job harder by twitching, as though this was an everyday occurrence.

The most frustrating thing was that whenever the children were asked where they learned these new skills and habits, they would only smile and say, "In the country" never elaborating, much to their mother's frustration. While Helen would not have been surprised if they had learned how to ride a horse or fish while they were away, they should not have been near any type of environment that would turn sweet little nine-year-old girls into unflinching nurses or fourteen-year-old boys into fathers. She had sent them to the country to keep them from such things.

Sometimes it felt like she did not know them at all anymore.

Mrs. Pevensie's thoughts were interrupted abruptly by a sharp knock at the front door. Smoothing out her dress, she opened the door to find herself face to snout with an unnaturally large tiger and a pair of muscled, shirtless men with goat legs and swords strapped to their hips. Taking an unsteady step back and paling drastically she managed to gasp out, "Can I help you?"

To her astonishment, the tiger replied in a deep, pleasant voice, "Yes mam, I believe you may. Would you happen to be Mrs. Helen Pevensie?"

"Yes…"

"Wonderful. May we please come in? We need to talk to you about your children, their Majesties: High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund and Queen Lucy of Narnia."

THUD

"Oh dear, we'd better bring her inside the house. Would you mind carrying her in Hawthorn, while Darius and I look for some tea and smelling salts?"


	8. Manners

Helen Pevensie was in a daze, walking through life on autopilot as she frantically tried to process how her world had been turned upside-down in so little time. That morning she had been looking forward to having some of her chocolate ration with her afternoon tea and perhaps receiving a letter from her children, maybe the increasingly rare one from her husband. Her peaceful day had been shattered by the radio announcement about the Narnian royalty and her life had taken an unexpected turn when Narnians turned up on her doorstep, confirming her fears.

That was hours ago though. Once she awoke and came to terms with the fact that the tiger was actually talking, the Narnians explained to her how her children had entered Narnia whilst in the country and their lives there, over a strong cup of tea and biscuits. She then packed a bag and was escorted through the swirling portal to the Narnian castle, Cair Paravel. Apparently, her children had sent the guards to "summon" her to the castle. If this was true, of which Helen still wasn't quite sure, she'd be giving her children a good talking to about manners once she got them alone, if they were lucky. One does not simply "summon" their mother, supposed royalty or no.


	9. Meetings, Guests & Homecomings

**Here's the children's ages for some perspective: **

**Princess Elizabeth : 15**

**Peter: 14 (England), 29 (Narnia)**

**Susan: 13 (England), 28 (Narnia)**

**Edmund: 11 (England), 26 (Narnia)**

**Princess Margaret:11**

**Lucy: 9 (England), 24 (Narnia)**

Susan was fretting; a bad habit she had picked up from her mother, years ago.

After spending twenty minutes convincing Mr. Randal to let the Pevensies leave, the Narnian royals had followed the Prime Minister to Buckingham Palace with their retinue, where they were shown to a set of rooms to freshen up in before their audience with the King George VI of England. Unfortunately, the Narnians had expected to find their royals as the adults they had been, and as such, had no finery among them that would fit their child-sized monarchs. They had their crowns and gifts from Father Christmas though (they had brought Edmund his dwarf forged sword), and were happily donned. Though the weapons must have looked odd over their shapeless school uniforms, the children felt more like themselves once again crowned and armed.

They were then led to the throne room where, much to the Narnian delegation's displeasure, the Prime Minister introduced the Pevensie siblings after the rest of their entourage, as Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie instead of by their proper titles. Seeing his superior's rage and the Royals' carefully hidden frustration, Reepicheep hopped off Lucy's shoulder and began reintroducing the Pevensies, hoping to sooth tempers and start the meeting without any unnecessary bloodshed.

The next three hours were spent explaining the Pevensies adventures in Narnia to the enraptured royal family and promising to arrange trade talks and consider joining the war effort once they had been brought back up to speed on the state of their own nation. There was a brief argument over the Pevensies being allowed to return to Narnia, as they were British citizens by birth, but it was quickly agreed that over a decade of living in and ruling Narnia made the siblings more Narnia's people than Great Britain's. King George was surprised when the children took point in the negotiations instead of their general, but it was a pleasantly surprise none the less. Despite their youthful appearance, all four had listened carefully throughout the meeting and proposed solutions and ideas with wisdom beyond their years.

Hoping to strengthen relations between the two countries (otherwise known as a worried father wanting his children as far from danger as possible), King George sent his daughters, the Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, with them back to Narnia. Before they left, the Pevensies sent a small group of Narnians to bring their mother to the castle and asked the British King if their father could be relieved from duty and sent to them as well. The Prime Minister had blustered about the absurdity of removing an able-bodied man from the front when they needed all they had, but King George saw an opportunity to earn the Narnians' good will and shut him down quickly. He then assured the siblings that Sargent John Pevensie would find himself relieved from duty and on his way to Narnia within the next fortnight. The Pevensies left the meeting in high spirits with their apprehensive and excited guests in tow.

Leaving Buckingham Palace, the Pevensies plus their guests mounted Narnian steeds and rode through the portal and across the lush Narnian countryside; reaching seaside Cair Paravel an hour before the evening meal. Narnia's natural beauty amazed both English girls and Princess Elizabeth nearly fell off her horse when he told her that if she thought the Fords of Beruna were beautiful, she would find the Dancing Lawn on Midsummers Eve a right treat. Only Edmund's battle honed reflexes stopped her from taking a tumble out of her saddle, as neither girl had met a talking horse before. It was all well and good to be told they existed; meeting one was an eye opener, indeed.

The reason for Susan's fretting however was waiting for them when they arrived at Cair Paravel. Amid the joyous greeting from their court and staff, Susan had been able to make out their mother standing at the back of the Great Hall near their thrones, looking very out of place in her English frock, and she did not look happy.


	10. A Princess' Opinion

Elizabeth did not know quite what to think, the day had been a complete whirlwind. Her father had had her and her sister woken earlier than usual to prepare to meet the Narnian delegates and present a united front, but the last thing Elizabeth expected was to be confronted with children. Children, and yet the leader they had been told to expect, General Oreius, had deferred to them!

Perhaps she was being unkind, as she herself was only a year older than the eldest boy, Peter, but their story had been rather hard to believe, even with the evidence sitting right in front of them. Unless one looked closely, one would not believe that all four were in their twenties, especially the youngest, Lucy. It was the eyes though. Everything else about them might reflect children, but their eyes, striking blues and wise brown, had seen war, hardship and love in measures far beyond their physical years.

Breaking away from such heavy thoughts, Elizabeth turned to look at her sister, eleven-year-old Margaret who was riding on a black stallion with a satyr. The little pixie of a girl hadn't stopped giggling since Elizabeth nearly fell off her horses halfway through the journey. Honestly, how was it her fault that a **_talking horse_** startled her? Shaking her head she turned back around as the group came into the main courtyard of the Narnians' rather impressive castle. The castle staff and court immediately swarmed the four Narnian royals, making a ruckus.

As Elizabeth and Margaret dismounted, Lucy managed to extract herself from the swarm and approached them, followed by two ethereal women with faintly green tinted skin and bedecked in blossoms and trailing ivy. Smiling, the littlest queen addressed the sisters in a brisk tone, "I apologise for the noise, but I'm afraid we did leave without notice." Smiling indulgently at the crowd, Lucy gestured to the women standing respectfully behind her, "These are Lily and Fleri; they will be your maids during your stay here in Cair Paravel. Dinner is in an hour, so they will take you to your rooms for now. We will be introducing you to the court before the feast."

Before Lucy could continue, Edmund came up behind his sister and laid his hand lightly on her forearm, letting her know he had need of her. "Excuse me, Your Highnesses, but I need to steal my sister away, there are matters my royal consorts and I must attend to. We shall see you at supper." With a quick bow and a genial smile, the Just King walked back to his elder siblings, Lucy in tow. The four fell in line with each other before entering the castle, which was apparently a sign for everyone else to enter as well.

Unsure of what to do, Elizabeth gripped her sister's hand tightly and turned to their maids for direction. Dropping a quick curtsy, Fleri gestured for them to follow her as she led the sisters through the castle to their shared suite while Lily directed the servants carrying their luggage. The young princesses relaxed on their four poster beds while they waited for dinner and the maids unpacked and aired out their things. It was not until they were being helped into a pair of beautiful, Narnian gowns the young Queens had sent for them that Elizabeth gathered her courage and asked something that had been confusing the Crown Princess since she met the fae like women.

"I do not wish to be impertinent," the elder princess began tentatively, "but what are you exactly?"

The maids glanced at each other over the princesses heads and giggled. After a moment Lily took pity on the confused girls and explained, "Begging your pardon, milady, but we were wondering when you would ask, we could tell you were curious when Her Majesty introduced us. We are dryads, Milady, nature spirits."

"Is that why you are green?" Margaret asked impulsively as Fleri finished lacing up her delicately embroidered bodice.

"Yes Milady," She answered with a fond smile, "but that's enough about us now. It's about time we get you down to dinner. It wouldn't do to be late and show up in the middle of the High King's welcome speech, now would it."

With that, the two dryads hustled the princesses out of their rooms and through a labyrinth of tapestry covered corridors until they reached a small door that led to the Royal's thrones at the end of the Great Hall. The girls were led onto the dais and stood on either side of the High King's throne. Peter flashed them both a quick smile before he stood and began to address the gathered Narnians.


	11. Home Again

After the Pevensies entered the castle

Entering their beloved Cair Paravel was like a breath of fresh air to the siblings; it was busy and slightly hectic, but nowhere had ever felt more like home to the four. Servants and courtiers were rushing about them, calling out joyful greetings and hurrying to prepare a feast for their returned monarchs and their guests. As the siblings made their way through the great hall towards their mother, Lucy could see Susan tense. Her sister was preparing to hustle their mother into their private apartments before she could release her wrath on her children in front of those who would hold it against her, regardless of her right as their mother.

Hoping to assist her more diplomatically inclined sister, Lucy caught Mrs. Beaver's eye as she walked past and nodded discreetly towards her mother. Catching her meaning as their motherly head woman always did, Mrs. Beaver began to quietly heard people from the hall, leaving a clear path for the Pevensies and less witnesses if their family reunion went downhill.

As they reached her, the siblings enveloped their mother in a hug before she can say anything and Edmund, ever the opportunist, whispered in her ear, "I know you want answers, and answers we will gladly give, but please wait until we have the privacy to speak freely." Helen was frustrated, but her children looked so at home in this strange land, so she held her tongue for the moment. Nodding, Helen followed her mysterious progeny farther into the large castle, watching as they navigated the beautiful labyrinth of staircases and tapestry covered corridors with an easy familiarity, until they reached a set of richly furnished rooms. They were empty but for a pair of moles who were hastily removing dusty drop clothes from the furniture and scurried out of the rooms when they finished, dropping quick curtsies as they passed the family.

Looking around as the moles finished their work, Helen realised she was in a richly furnished common room of sorts, with four bedrooms and a few large studies branching off of it.

Once everyone was seated, Helen levelled her fidgeting children with an icy gaze they knew well, one that demanded answers and promised harsh retribution if denied, and said one word, "How?"

The siblings gave each other nervous looks before Edmund started. "Did no one explain things mum? We asked-"

She silenced him with withering glance before saying in a tone that never failed to make all four children feel extremely guilty and trapped, "I, am asking you. Now explain, everything."

So they told her everything: of meeting Professor Kirk and finding the wardrobe, Lucy and Edmund's first visits to Narnia, the White Witch, the Battle of Beruna, their coronation and rule, through to their unexpected return to England. Helen stayed silent as her children told their tale and as she listened, her anger slowly faded away. When the tiger and fauns had explained things, it seemed so fanciful and faerie-tale-esque, that despite the evidence sitting in her own living room, Helen's rational mind revolted and decided that it had to somehow be a prank or dream. However, listening to her children pour out a story of an impossible lifetime with such sincerity, Helen finally accepted that this was real and she was not going to wake up to the kettle whistling.

While their mother was lost in thought, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy crept out of their sitting room, changing into their old, child sized finery the servants had dug out of storage for them. Hearing the doors close, Helen looked up to see her children, as she never had before.

Peter and Edmund stood side by side in comfortable black breaches tucked into fitted, knee high leather boots, with long sleeved, linen shirts under thigh length, velvet tunics of navy blue and forest green respectively. Ebony and golden hair sat neatly combed beneath silver and gold crowns, hands resting comfortably on the swords belted across their waists as they stood quietly for their mother's perusal. Seeing her boys standing so tall and proud, Helen was reminded of her husband, whom she had not seen in years, yet saw every day in her strapping young sons.

Embracing them with tears in her eyes, Helen was unprepared for her daughters' appearances. They entered the room while she faced their brothers, and noticing the boys were looking over her shoulders with pride in their eyes, Helen turned to find her daughters looking even more radiant than usual (one must allow a mother her bias).

Both girls wore graceful Narnian gowns with small, black satin dancing slippers peeking out from under their slightly trailing hems.

Susan had donned a violet velvet, capped sleeved, empire waist gown overtop a long sleeved, pale lavender chemise. She had plaited her long, inky locks into a thick, five-strand braid down her back, topped with her carefully crafted circlet of silver vines and golden flowers. Although she, unlike the rest of her siblings, bore no visible weapons, Helen had a sinking suspicion that Susan's sweeping sleeves and skirts hid many a dangerous secret.

Lucy stood beaming beside her sister in a fitted emerald green velvet gown. It had wider skirts than Susan's that flared as she twirled, showing off her flowy, understated frock; much like the girl herself. Delicately embroidered golden leaves and vines wove over the soft fabric of the bodice and comfortable wide sleeves that ended in dags over her hands; dagger belted across her waist in the same fashion as her brothers. Her golden auburn curls had taken a thorough brushing and now lay free across her shoulders, giving off a soft glow when the light hit them, her crown of sturdy, yet finely wrought silver flowers and leaves perched securely atop the orderly mess.

So stunned was Helen by her children's regal and mature appearance, she was oblivious to her crafty daughters hustling her into Susan's room and swapping her out of her English house dress and into one of Susan's adult sized gowns, until the girls released her and her sons showered her with compliments. Susan had coerced her into an elegant, rose satin gown with draping mauve sleeves and detailing, and Lucy had put her hair up in a common Narnian fashion with a pair of simple, pearl inlaid silver hair combs for decoration when Susan was lacing the dress.

"You look stunning, Mum." Peter murmured softly in her ear as he gave her a peck on the cheek. "It would be an honour if you would allow me to escort you to the feast."

"What about the girls? There are two of them, but only one of Edmund." Helen asked, she would loath to turn Peter down, but would rather that than leave one of her daughters without an escort.

"Don't worry Mum;" Edmund chuckled, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and a wicked grin stretching from ear to ear, "I'm sure Mr. Tumnus would just **_love_** to escort our little Lucy. Would he not, sister dear?"

Catching his meaning Helen raised an inquisitive brow and chuckled lightly at her children's antics as she took Peter's arm, filing that little titbit away in her mind for later perusal.

Edmund on the other hand, heeding years of experience reminding him that he really should not be in the same room as his lioness of a little sister at the moment, darted from the room, narrowly avoiding the paper weight Lucy whipped at him on his way out. The young Valiant Queen was hot on his heels not a second later, dagger drawn adn howling for blood as she sped after the Just as easily in the restricting formal wear as she did in her beloved hunting garb.

"Are they always like this?" Helen asked her eldest two with mirth as they started to make their way downstairs.

"More often than one would think," Susan replied dryly from behind her, years of practice letting her stay in step with the pair, yet never on their heels or the train of Helen's dress, "none of us ever really stopped. Though Edmund really should know better than to antagonise Lucy by now. Our fair sister is akin to a rose, beautiful and well aware of her thorns."

Peter chuckled, Susan's words bringing back many a fond memory of his littlest sister, "Too true, Susan; Lucy has more than earned her moniker from the troops over the years." Noticing his mother's confusion, he explained, "The soldiers started calling Lucy the Little Lioness after they saw her take down a giant by herself at age ten. You know, they still tell tales of the time she ran Kidrash Tarkaan out of Archenland with his tail between his legs when he tried to force his daughter, the Lady Araviss, back to Calormene to marry the Triscot's advisor. I must admit, almost felt sorry for the man"

By the time they reached the Great Hall, the four royals were once again calm and their clothes miraculously wrinkle free. One would never think two of them had been running through the aged halls like little hellions not five minutes ago. 'Though', Lucy thought happily to herself as she greeted her dear friend, Mr. Tumnus, 'Ed's jaw is going to be a beautiful purple in a few hours.'

The family entered the Hall to riotous applause: Peter and Helen first, then Edmund and Susan, with Lucy bringing up the rear on Mr. Tumnus' arm. As they reached their thrones, Peter handed his mother off to Mr. Tumnus who led her to a chair set aside from the thrones. The four Kings and Queens then sat, the simple action silencing the hall.


	12. Feasts & Friends

Once the hall settled, Peter stood and call out, "Praise be to Aslan!" The cry echoed by all.

"My good people, I know that I speak for all my siblings when I say we are overjoyed to be among you once more. I would like to apologise for our abrupt departure five months ago, please believe me when I say it was not intentional. Whilst hunting the White Stag, my royal consorts and I unknowingly came upon the portal that originally brought us to Narnia fifteen years ago and not recognising it, we accidently stumbled through, the portal sealing behind us and reverting us, as you can see, to the ages at which we first entered Narnia."

Susan rose to stand at her brother's side, continuing where he left off, "Trusting that Aslan would return us to you when it was time, we bided our time in our homeland, England, until the portal came and gave us a way back to you."

Edmund stood and brought forward the English princesses who had been silently watching the assemblage with awe. "On that note; I am pleased to introduce," he said, his quiet voice pitched to carry throughout the hall, "their Royal Highnesses, Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret of England. They have come to join us here in Cair Paravel as our honoured guests until the war in their land is over and it is safe for them to return home."

"Lastly," Lucy chirped, beaming as she led their suddenly shy mother into the spotlight, "we would like to make known to you our mother, Lady Helen Pevensie of Finchley. Our father, Lord John Pevensie will be joining us shortly from the frontlines of England's war and both, we hope, will choose to stay with us indefinitely in our beloved Cair, as a happy addition to our family."

Peter then retook the fore and with a large grin exclaimed, "But enough of talk now, for there is much food and good cheer to be had. Let the feast begin! Praise be to Aslan!"

The Narnians echoed back the cry and hurried to seat themselves as the Pevensies and their guests moved down from the dais to the head table below, the feast going full swing.

As the siblings ate and chatted with much missed friends and advisors, Peter made sure to keep a discreet eye on his unusually reserved mother and the English princesses, as did the rest of their siblings. While it was wonderful to have them in Narnia, Peter was aware of the culture shock it must be for the English ladies to be thrust into Narnia.

Looking around the hall, Peter noted that most of the food had been eaten and so called for the tables to be moved and the dance floor cleared. As was their tradition, the Pevensie siblings rose to take the first dance, each boy escorting their younger counterpart as they made their way to the middle of the floor and much to their mother's shock, started moving in perfect synchronisation to the music.

Twirling and weaving the siblings went around each other; the brothers swapping partners every few measures without a single thought, the rustle of their sister's skirts the only sound besides the music as the graceful quartet held the entire hall's attention and admiration. It was an elegant, fluid dance, the same one they had opened every ball with for years, and yet it never ceased to thrill the siblings and their subjects. Ending with a lift and a twirl that flowed seamlessly into bows and curtsies, the siblings returned to the head table to thunderous applause as other dancers took the floor, the ball now officially underway.

As his sisters sat back down, Susan quickly distracted by their mothers hushed demands for answers, Peter took a quick sip from his water goblet before offering his hand to Princess Elizabeth, Edmund doing the same farther down the table with Margaret.

"Would you give me the honour of this dance, Your Highness?"

Glancing around discreetly, Elizabeth hesitated slightly before putting her hand in his and allowing herself to be lead to the dance floor as the last dance ended. As they got into position, she refused to meet Peter's eyes as she whispered tightly, "I don't know the dances."

Startled by the short laugh the escaped the High King, Elizabeth looked up hotly, prepared to rip the golden haired teen a new one, before she saw he was smiling at her not mockingly, but with sympathy. She arched a brow at him as he started moving them through the dance, leading effortlessly, "Neither did we when we first came here. We were just four common kids from Finchley, we had no clue what we were doing. I'll tell you a secret though," he said, leaning in conspiratorially as they wove among the crowd of dancers, a smirk gracing his lips, "it's much easier, if you stop thinking so hard."

Gaping at the smirking King for a moment, Elizabeth took a breath and found herself smiling too, making a conscious effort to relax and enjoy the gentle sweep and glide of the dance in the arms of her well versed partner as she could see her little sister doing on the other side of the dance floor with the younger king. If what she had heard was true, and despite his finesse, Peter was not the one who possessed the silver tongue, then Elizabeth was sure she would quite enjoy her time here.


	13. Little Sisters are a Force of Nature

_Hello beloved readers. Once again I am so sorry for the enormous delay between chapters but unfortunately, real life and my personal health comes before my story, no matter how much I would like to spend my time hiding in Narnia. I'll post more when I can but don't hold out hope for regular updates._

The next morning, Lucy woke up slowly to the warm sunlight streaming through her open window, only slightly obscured by the sheer bed hangings that most certainly did not belong in her dorm room. Sitting up, she looked around the room in sleepy confusion, briefly noting the familiar, tapestry carved stone walls and lack of her sister before the events of the last few days came back to her. She wasn't at school; she was in Narnia!

Joy quickly replacing confusion, the energetic little Pevensie jumped out of her luxurious four poster bed and pulled a green shawl over her nightgown before running out her room, determined to share her joy with her siblings. She'd been so sure it was just a dream, she had them often enough.

Running through the empty family common room, Lucy burst into Edmund's room on surprisingly quiet feet and yanked his bed hangings back and shaking his shoulder 'til he woke up and instinctively took a swing at her with the knife she knew he kept hidden in his headboard, blearily wiping sleep from his eyes with the other hand. Cackling madly, she nimbly dodged out of the way before darting back out the door and repeated the procedure with her eldest siblings, filling their apartments with enough laughter and cursing to wake their mother from her guest room across the hall from the royal suite.

"What on earth is going on?" Helen asked Edmund warily as she crossed the hall to find her youngest son sprawled on one of the common room couches, watching the hubbub with a rather fond expression for someone who had been so rudely awakened.

"Lucy woke up." He answered simply, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, but leaving his mother with more questions than answers. Though Lucy was often the first to wake at home, being the youngest, she was rather well behaved; reading a book or playing quietly until someone else woke up and could help her get breakfast. To see her running around willy-nilly and waking everyone up was a bit of a shock.

Suddenly Lucy ran back into the common room and flopped down beside her brother, happily slipping under his raised arm as the eldest two emerged from their rooms, still in their bed clothes, looking begrudgingly amused instead of murderous, despite their unceremonious wakening.

"Morning Mum," Peter said with a yawn, giving her a peck on the cheek as he went to sit down, "I see Lucy woke you too."

"Though she needn't have been so forceful nor so early." Susan chided softly with a small smirk.

"Oh, come on Su." Lucy pouted, "We're in Narnia! It has been too long since we woke up to a sea salt breeze. Besides, it's not that early; the sun is up, the cooks will no doubt be ready to serve breakfast soon and today is going to be a long one, like as not. Is it not better to start early than finish late, as I believe a certain Gentle Queen used to enjoy telling me?"

"She also used to say little siblings were often times more of a pain than they were worth, as I recall." Susan sniped back with a smile.

The boys looked on fondly, well used to their sisters' affectionate squabbles. The girls loved each other as fiercely as they did their brothers, but their drastically different temperaments tended to make the pair but heads.

A soft knock on the door quieted the sisters as Mr. Tumnus made his way into the family's quarters, happily accepting Lucy's enthusiastic hug, which going by her siblings lack of reaction was a routine thing, though seeing her youngest daughter hug a full grown man (satyr, thing?) in naught but her nightgown had Helen's fingers twitching. While she understood that manners and proper etiquette must be different in Narnia, if the energetic revels of the last night were anything to go by, the English mother in her wanted nothing more than to snatch her little girl away from the man(?) before her.

"Good morning, your majesties. I trust you slept well." The satyr said as he let go of Lucy, taking a step back to stand respectfully before his monarchs with his hands behind his back.

"Oh, come now, Mr. Tumnus," Peter said jovially, reaching forward to clap the satyr on the shoulder, "you have been one of our closest friends for years, there is no need to stand on ceremony."

"Of course," Tumnus replied, his posture loosening and a small smirk gracing his features, "your majesty."

Shaking his head ruefully, Peter gestured for Mr. Tumnus to sit with them as his siblings giggled to themselves.

Mr. Tumnus shook his head in regret, "I am afraid I cannot stay my friends. I only came to inform you that our royal guests have risen for the day and that breakfast is ready to be served at your leisure."

"Right then," Susan said decisively, "please have it served in our small dining room and tell their Highnesses that they are free to start without us. We will be down presently."

With a nod and a fond smile, Mr. Tumnus left to fulfil his duties and the Pevensies split to get ready for their day, Susan ushering her mother into her room with her to find an appropriate dress for the day.


End file.
